


Judgement

by AgentFontySeven



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Backstory, Bigotry & Prejudice, Canonical Character Death, Drama, Flashbacks, Gen, Historical References, Medical Experimentation, Medical Torture, Military, Moral Dilemmas, Nazis, Psychological Trauma, Temporary Character Death, War, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-09 06:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11663115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentFontySeven/pseuds/AgentFontySeven
Summary: When you can ask a magic dragon to bring your friends back to life, death ceases to be much of a worry. However, the end must come for all eventually, and no dragon can save you from your final judgement... but perhaps a dear friend can?





	1. The Bell Tolls for Thee

 At first, Gohan wasn’t entirely sure where he was. The last thing he remembered was fighting with Majin Buu. A wave of embarrassment surged through him as he recalled how he’d gotten cocky there at the end and let his guard down. His father had offered him a chance to fuse with him using Supreme Kai’s Potara earrings, but he had foolishly turned it down. He’d been so confident after Gotenks’ fusion wore off inside Buu, and that blind confidence ended up getting himself absorbed as well.

 But now? Now he found himself standing on a solid stone road that seemed to be floating in the air above a vast sea of fluffy, golden clouds. Off in the distance he could see a huge Japanese-style castle of white, red and green.

 “Where are we?”

 The question was front and center in his mind, but it was not he who’d asked it aloud. He turned around to search out the owner of the all-too-familiar voice, coming face to face with his little brother. Goten seemed to be fine – albeit just as confused as Gohan was – but something made the elder brother’s heart sink like a stone. A golden ring of light floated above the younger half-Saiyan’s head, the same sort of ring he’d seen over their father’s head when he’d come back from the dead to participate in the World Martial Arts Tournament.

  _Dead_. That one word was like a dagger in his already sunken heart. Were they really dead? Gohan looked around in a panic, searching for something – or someone – to disprove this horrendous theory. Trunks was there as well, looking just as confused as his friend. The final member of the small group, however, displayed no such confusion.

 Piccolo simply stood there, a halo over his head just like all the rest, a look of cold resignation hanging on his face. It was quite clear that he knew exactly where the four of them were, and that he would be unable to allay his student’s greatest fear.

 “P-Piccolo…” Gohan stammered out, unable to stop himself from asking, though he clearly knew the answer already, “A-are we…?”

 “Follow me,” he replied softly, passing by the three half-Saiyans without making eye contact. The towering Namekian warrior made his way towards the castle at the far end of the floating road, his long strides carrying him off just fast enough that the boys couldn’t quite keep up at a comfortable pace. Gohan had to jog a bit to catch up to him.

 “H-hey, where are we going? What’s going on here?”

 “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be, Gohan,” Piccolo replied, still not looking down at his dear old friend, “You’re a smart kid. You’ve already figured out what happened. We lost. We failed. This is the price of failure.”

 Gohan let out a shuddering sigh, fighting off the tears that were welling up in his eyes. This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t have failed. What would happen to the Earth? And what about everyone who had been killed? Was there even anyone left to wish them back? Was this really it?

 “So… What do we do now?” he asked, finally forcing himself to start accepting the reality of the situation.

 “Now?” Piccolo repeated, hesitating far more than was normal for him, “You’ll be fine. You’re one hell of a kid, Gohan. You’ll be going to a good place. I wouldn’t be surprised if your little girlfriend will be up there waiting for you.”

 At that, Gohan’s face instantly turned beet red.

 “G-girlfriend?! C-come on, Piccolo! It’s not fair teasing me like that at a time like this!” he retorted before wasting no time changing the subject, “And what about you?”

 “What _about_ me?”

 “I mean, you’ll be there too, right?”

 There was a long silence after that. So long, in fact, that Gohan was afraid Piccolo wouldn’t answer.

 “Piccolo? You’ll be there too… Right?”

 Another nearly endless silence stretched out between the two of them. Finally, Piccolo let out a small sigh.

 “That’ll be up to King Yemma.”

 

* * *

 

 

 The rest of the walk was made in silence, but they didn’t have to endure it for long. They passed through the massive arch of the castle gate. A blue ogre in office clothes greeted the four of them, waving them forward to stand before a truly gargantuan mahogany desk. Behind this desk sat an equally gigantic red ogre in a pinstripe suit, whose voice boomed down over them even larger still.

 “I must admit, I wasn’t looking forward to this, but considering all that’s happened today, I’m not surprised to see you here.”

 “Where’s ‘here?’ Who are you?” Trunks asked in that semi-demanding tone that was endemic of children of rich parentage. King Yemma seemed to forgive the boy’s tone, looking down at him with what almost seem to be a glint of pity.

 “Don’t you worry, son. You’ll be taken good care of. In fact, your mother came through here not long ago and we’ll get you off to her in just a moment.”

 “Really?! What about _my_ mom?!” Goten chimed in excitedly.

 “Don’t worry, your mother’s here as well.” Yemma replied, glancing away just long enough to jot something down in his paperwork. He then looked up and directed them off to one side with one massive hand. “Now you three boys just head down that hallway and go through the gates at the end. You’ll find your mothers there without too much trouble.”

 Both Goten and Trunks eagerly accepted the invitation and bounded down the hallway. Gohan, however, merely stared after them until they disappeared from view.

 “Well, what are you waiting for?” came Yemma’s booming voice once more, “You’re free to go as well, Gohan.”

 Gohan heard him well enough, but he didn’t feel compelled to follow the great ogre’s direction. Instead, he found himself looking up at his old mentor.

 “What about Piccolo? He’s coming with us too, right?”

 In response to that, King Yemma let out a sigh similar to the one Piccolo had given when asked about that earlier.

 “That’s… That’s complicated, I’m afraid. Young people like yourself and those two boys are easy enough to judge, but your friend here… Well, he’s had a very long, very… _eventful_ life. His judgement is going to be a little trickier.”

 “Uhh… How tricky are we talking?” Gohan asked hesitantly. In response to this question, King Yemma reached down to open one of the drawers of his desk. He then produced a file that was as thick as the great ogre’s head was wide, dropping it onto the surface of his desk with a thunderous thud.

 “ _Very_ tricky,” he replied, giving the massive file a good pat, “Piccolo may have died before, but this is the first time he’s died with his soul in one piece. I’ve not only got to go through _his_ life, but _Kami’s_ as well. Then I’ve got to somehow stitch the two together and come up with an appropriate judgement. Needless to say, this might take a while.”

 “Well… Now that I’m dead, I’ve got all of eternity, right? Would it be okay if I stuck around until you were done?”

 “Gohan…” Piccolo interrupted, looking down at the Saiyan teen for the first time since they’d arrived, “I can handle myself. You just go on ahead. You shouldn’t keep your mother or Videl waiting. They’ve been worried about you for days.”

 Gohan merely shook his head in response.

 “I already know I’ll be able to see them whenever I want for the rest of time. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I left now and never saw _you_ again,” he said, giving his mentor a soft smile, “Besides, whatever might have happened in your past, I know you’re a good person _now_. You should be judged on that, not what happened ages ago. I want to make sure that’s what happens.”

 Piccolo couldn’t help but stare down at Gohan for a long moment, as though searching the teen’s eyes for sincerity. Finally – inevitably – he gave in.

 “Alright… But don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”

 “Well, now that _that’s_ settled…” Yemma interjected. The great ogre then snapped his fingers – producing a sound more akin to a thunderclap than a snap – and there appeared an abyss-like hole in the floor before the two warriors. Gohan peeked tentatively over the edge, peering into what seemed to be an infinite black void. He then glanced up at King Yemma, who wore an amused smirk across his lips.

 “Trust me, boy, it’s a lot more impressive-looking than it really is. Both of you go ahead and step into the circle and we’ll get started.”

 “B-both of us? But… what is it for?” Gohan asked nervously. Before he could get an answer, however, Piccolo had stepped forward without hesitation. Rather than fall straight down into the void, he merely stood there atop it as though the floor had never opened up in the first place. Gohan suddenly felt rather foolish for being so nervous. After all, he supposed if there was a risk of falling they could always fly.

 The Saiyan teen followed his mentor’s lead, stepping into the circle to join him. The instant he passed through the perimeter, the entire world seemed to go dark. He drew in a sharp gasp at the sudden change. The worst part was that it wasn’t just a visual shock. Wherever he found himself now, it had an entirely different atmosphere to it. It was heavy and humid, and it was somewhat hard to breathe. He instantly started getting flashbacks to his time in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. This… _wherever_ it was… felt just like the Time Chamber, except it was an endless black void instead of an endless white one.

 Gohan then remembered that he hadn’t entered this place alone. He spun around to see if Piccolo was there with him. Thankfully his old friend hadn’t gotten far. Piccolo stood with his back turned just a few meters away, just on the edge of the only illuminated spot in the area. Just beyond where the towering Namekian was standing was a circle of light, as though there were an invisible spotlight shining down from directly above. In the center of the light was a single ornate chair that looked to be made of twisted wrought iron. The strangest thing about the chair was that it only had one leg emerging from the center of the seat bottom, the whole thing balanced precariously on what amounted to a needle point.

 “Piccolo… What _is_ all this?”

 “It’s not obvious?” Piccolo asked, though he didn’t bother looking back Gohan’s way. Without explaining further, he stepped forward into the light and took a seat in the chair. The instant he did, the air felt as though an electric charge had been sent through it. Every nerve in Gohan’s body lit up with an indescribable feeling, and his vision filled with a blinding light.

 As quickly as it had come on, it all went away. His body soon stopped its weird vibrating and his vision started to clear. Even before he could see, he knew he must not be in the same place as before. The air was no longer humid and still, but was now bitterly cold with a biting wind. He let out a yelp of surprise – producing a fair puff of fog from his warm breath hitting the freezing air – and wrapped his arms around himself in a desperate attempt to keep some of his body heat near him.

 Gohan had suddenly found himself standing in the middle of what looked to be a vast mountain range only sparsely peppered with a small population of evergreen trees. He turned around to find more of the same behind him, the permafrost crunching lightly under his feet. What’s more, he was most decidedly alone. Piccolo was nowhere to be seen.

 Where the hell was he now? What was the reason for sending him to a god forsaken wasteland like this? Was it all some trick to get him out of the way? To keep him from interfering in Piccolo’s judgement? Gohan grit his teeth in frustration and was just about to let his anger at the situation boil over when something caught his eye. The dusky sky was suddenly lit up with a bright fiery light, pulling his eyes upward to see what was causing it. What he saw was what looked to be a large meteorite falling from the sky.

 As he watched this object fall from the sky, he quickly realized that it was no simple space rock. No, this was quite clearly a ship of some sort. It was a light color despite still being engulfed in flames from its steep entry into the atmosphere, seemed to be vaguely spherical and, if he squinted hard enough, he thought he could just see four distinct protrusions out of one side. In a flash, he realized he’d seen a ship like that before. In fact, he may have been on that very ship before. The sudden knowledge of where he was – and more importantly, _when_ he was – had him rocketing off towards where the ship would inevitably land.

 


	2. Mother

 Gohan flew as fast as he possibly could, ignoring how the frigid air stung as it whipped against his face, rocketing towards where he saw the spacecraft hurtling down out of the sky. He knew exactly who must be on that ship, and there was no way he was going to let him die in some crash! Unfortunately, even though he’d strained himself as much as his body could handle, he couldn’t quite make it in time. The ship hit the ground just beyond the next mountain, but there was no loud, fiery explosion.

 When he reached the landing site, he found no crater or scorch marks on the ground. Indeed, despite the blazing entrance into the atmosphere, the ship seemed to have made a very smooth and controlled landing. Gohan let out the breath he’d been holding in a sigh of relief. Well, at least the worst had been avoided.

 He landed down on the small plateau where the ship had touched down and quickly made his way over to where he knew the entrance hatch to be. He knew this ship, and he knew how it worked. After all, this was the very ship that he, Krillin, and Bulma would eventually use to travel to Namek. If he remembered correctly, the word that would open the hatch for him would be…

 “Piccolo!” he bellowed up at the underbelly of the ship. But rather than obeying his command and opening up for him, the hatch remained firmly in place. Gohan furrowed his brows in confusion. That was the password, wasn’t it? It may have been over a decade since he’d even seen this ship, but he was quite sure he remembered how to open the door at the very least.

 “Piccolo, Piccolo, _Piccolo!_ C’mon, open up, Goddammit!” he shouted frantically, but to no avail. Letting out a growl of pure frustration, he leapt up and attempted to pry the hatch out with brute force. Despite being more than strong enough to destroy the entire ship, the hatch remained stubbornly in place. He continued on futilely tugging at it until a faint sound from the other side pulled his attention away from the task at hand. A moment later, there was a hiss of equalizing pressure as the hatch separated from the ship. Gohan backed away as the circular platform lowered down, coming to a rest hovering just an inch off the ground.

 Laying curled up in the center of the platform was a Namekian child that couldn’t have been much older than two or three years old. He seemed to be barely conscious, his eyes staring unfocused off into the distance, and he gave hardly any reaction to the freezing weather outside his ship. Upon closer inspection, Gohan quickly discovered the reason. The side of the boy’s head shown a streak of deep purple running down his face and starting to drip onto the surface of the platform.

 Gohan scrambled to the child’s side in a panic, reaching forward to scoop him up into his arms. However, his hands passed right through the boy’s body as though he were a ghost. He couldn’t touch him.

 “N-no… Piccolo! Hey, you’ve gotta wake up! _Piccolo!_ ” he shouted desperately, but just as the ship couldn’t respond to his commands, neither could this child hear him. Only then did he realize that he couldn’t affect _anything_ in this world. Everything he was seeing here had already happened ages ago, and none of it could be changed. He wasn’t here to help, only to observe.

 That wasn’t the only reason he suddenly felt a little foolish for trying to call the boy’s name. ‘Piccolo’ hadn’t been his original name, just a vaguely-remembered Namekian word that he took as his name. ‘Kami’ wasn’t his name yet either. In fact, ‘Kami’ was never really a name to begin with – it was a _title_. What then was this child’s real name?

 As if in answer to the question, a thought that wasn’t quite his own emerged onto the surface of his mind. The boy’s true name had been lost to time. He himself couldn’t remember it. Gohan glanced over his shoulder as though trying to catch whoever it was that might have slipped the foreign thought into his ear, but no one was there.

 He hadn’t the time to wonder at what had just happened. The Namekian child was injured and wouldn’t last out in the freezing cold for long. But what could Gohan do if he couldn’t even touch the boy? He needed someone else to find him and treat his wound. The Saiyan teen dashed to the edge of the rocky plateau, looking out over the bleak landscape below. Who the hell would be out in this God-forsaken wasteland, and at nightfall? Hope was dwindling fast, and Gohan had never been more powerless to stop it.

 “Over here! I think it landed up there somewhere!”

 The sudden call from the dark was enough to make Gohan jump out of his skin in surprise. Wait, there were actually _people_ out here?! Why in the hell… No, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. This could be the child’s only chance for survival. He scrambled along the edge of the plateau, gazing down to see where the voice may have come from. Soon enough, he spotted them.

 Down below he could just make out the shadowy silhouettes of two people on horseback. The two were making their way up the nearest thing to a path that lead up to the plateau, the one in front holding what seemed to be a lantern of some sort to light the way. Gohan watched the entire time, as though afraid they might miss the landing site if he took his eyes off them for even a moment. Finally, they reached the plateau.

 Two figures obscured by heavy winter gear dismounted their horses and approached the alien craft, each looking up at it in what Gohan was sure was awe. He wasn’t sure how old Piccolo really was, but he was quite positive that the arrival of extraterrestrials to Earth would cause a sensation in any previous era. Suddenly, he became quite nervous. The child was very obviously not human, after all. What would these people do when they found him?

 Unfortunately, Gohan’s fears were justified when the lantern light finally passed over the circular platform that still hovered just above the ground below the ship.

 “Wha… What the hell is that thing?!” one of the people shouted in a deep rumble of a voice. Now that Gohan was paying attention, he noticed something quite odd. This person spoke in a language he’d never heard in his life, yet he understood every word he said.

 The Saiyan teen didn’t get the chance to wonder how that was possible, as the man suddenly produced a gun from his thick jacket and pointed it squarely in the direction of the Namekian boy. He drew in a sharp gasp of panic, dashing forward to stand between the child and the armed man.

 “ _No!_ Don’t shoot!”

 Rather suddenly, Gohan was confused again. That last plea… He’d sure as hell thought it pretty loudly, but he hadn’t said it aloud. Besides, that wasn’t even his voice. It was a woman’s, and she spoke in the same strange language as the man. He looked down slightly to find that the other figure was standing right in front of him, shielding the boy with her body just as he had done. Having the advantage of actually _being_ there at the time, her defense was far more effective. The man immediately lowered his gun.

 “Natalia, what are you doing?! You don’t know what that thing is! It could be dangerous!” the man shouted, motioning for her to stand aside. The woman – Natalia, apparently – shook her head.

 “Whatever it is, I can see quite plainly that it’s just a _child_ ,” she retorted sharply. She then turned away from the man – walking straight through Gohan in the process, which was quite an odd sensation – and made her way over to where the alien boy lay.

 “Oh, look at the poor dear… He’s taken a bad blow to the head, and his clothes are so thin that he’ll be frozen in no time…”

 “Good. Leave him. We’ll let the weather take care of him for us,” the man interjected callously. This earned him a sharp glare from his companion.

 “Absolutely _not!_ I refuse to leave a helpless child to die out in the cold, no matter what he may look like! Papa raised us better than that!”

 “And what do you propose we do? Take it in and raise it as one of our own?”

 “Well, unless you can find this poor boy’s parents, that seems like the only logical conclusion, now doesn’t it?”

 For a long moment, the man seemed so flabbergasted by the woman’s response that he couldn’t seem to find the words to reply. Natalia had already unbuttoned the front of her heavy jacket and carefully picked the child up, held him against her chest and closed the jacket around the two of them before he managed to find his voice again.

 “I swear, if you weren’t my sister I’d turn you in for being a complete looney…” the man grumbled out in clear resignation. Natalia seemed to smile so brightly that you could almost see it through the scarf that obscured the lower half of her face.

 “Good! Now that that’s settled, we should hurry back to camp so I can bandage up his wound.”

 

* * *

 

 

 Gohan followed the two closely as they made their way back down the mountain to where they’d made camp. A large canvas tent was nestled between the mountainside and a smattering of large trees, which thankfully shielded them from the wind. The male traveler – whom Gohan had since learned was named Dmitri – worked to get a fire going while Natalia wrapped the Namekian child’s head in bandages.

 That wasn’t the only thing he’d learned. The entire ride down consisted of the two bickering with one another, which certainly lent credence to them being siblings. They’d apparently come up to this area on an archeological trip hunting for undiscovered petroglyphs. The entire thing had been Natalia’s idea, and Dmitri had only come to keep her safe – a near impossible task, given the woman’s stubbornness.

 They’d settled down just long enough to tie the horses up and settle into camp, but it started up again once they gathered around the fire.

 “I’m telling you, you’re making a mistake. What will you do if someone sees that thing? This is not a secret you can keep for long, and our father will not be able to protect you if the government gets wind of this. We might be well off now because of Father’s position, but no one is untouchable.”

 “Which is why I’ll make sure no one untrustworthy knows Ivan even exists.” Natalia retorted matter-of-factly, keeping her voice low enough so she wouldn’t wake the child in her arms. Dmitri didn’t reply right away. He merely stared at her incredulously for a long moment.

 “I’m sorry… _‘Ivan?’_ ”

 “Well, I’ve always wanted a boy named Ivan, so why not?”

 “Oh, for the love of…” Dmitri grumbled out, letting his head fall into his hands, “You _named_ it… Why would you _name_ it?”

 “Because he needs a name, of course! And I won’t have you going around calling him a ‘thing’ like that. I expect you to be a good uncle and treat him with the same amount of respect that you treat my daughter. Understood?”

 Dmitri never lifted his head from his hands the entire time she went on about it. He shook his head at the ridiculousness of it all, but seemed to have run out of fight.

 “Alright, fine… There’s no arguing with you when you’ve got your mind set to something. Your stubbornness will be the death of you.”

 “Duly noted,” she replied dryly, more or less ignoring much of what her brother had said. Gohan couldn’t help but smile at the way she handled the situation. He didn’t know much about this woman, but he liked her already. He was now quite confident that his old friend had been in good hands as a child. Natalia already seemed like a strong-willed and very protective mother, not unlike his own mother. He couldn’t help but wonder if that was why the two of them ended up becoming friends the way they did.

 He didn’t get a chance to sit there and wonder about it after that. Suddenly, the mountains and the campsite began to melt away, the wind died down to nothing, and the cold thankfully gave way to warmth. Before he could comprehend what was going on, Gohan found himself someplace else. In fact, the place he now stood was so different from where he just was that it almost felt like a different world altogether.

 He stood in the hallway of what could only have been a late 19th century mansion. The warm sunlight streaming in from tall windows reflected off wood floors so thoroughly polished that they had an almost mirror-like finish. Ornate brass light fixtures lined walls painted a deep burgundy, the richness of which was accented every now and then with elegantly framed classical artwork. Gohan wasn’t sure where he could be, but he did feel a tad underdressed given his new surroundings.

 “Oh _Ivan!_ Could you come here for a moment? I could use a hand.”

 The call came out from behind the door nearest to where Gohan was standing. It was a female voice, though not quite that of Natalia. It was certainly a very attractive voice, even when it spoke in that odd language that was apparently native to these people. Actually, perhaps it sounded especially attractive _because_ of it. He’d never thought of himself as a sucker for an accent or a foreign language, but this woman certainly made a case for it.

 He stepped forward to peek into the room where the call came from. The door was cracked open a few inches, yet he could already tell that this was a woman’s bedroom, and that it was as ornately decorated as the rest of the house that he’d seen. He spotted a tall mirror off in the corner and, consequently, the reflection it held. He caught a glimpse of a woman, but only a glimpse, for he immediately threw himself back away from the door at the sight of her, his face bright red. He hadn’t gotten a great look at her, but he’d seen enough to know that she had a body that matched her voice and, more importantly, that she wasn’t wearing much.

 Gohan now had quite a few questions, but he was in no frame of mind to sort them all out. He really shouldn’t have let his curiosity get the better of him. Now he felt like some creepy peeping tom! His only consolation was that he wasn’t _really_ there. No one could see him, and no one could catch him in the act.

 “I don’t suppose you’ve gotten lost?”

 The Saiyan teen suddenly felt as though his blood had turned to ice. On second thought, perhaps he _could_ be seen here. Whoever had caught him didn’t sound terribly happy, the comment dripping with sarcasm. The voice that spoke was deep and unmistakably male, and likely would have sounded very intimidating if it was not also very familiar to him. Gohan turned and found himself staring up at none other than Piccolo himself.


End file.
